


Clone

by ShamelesslyPoetic



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Gen, Halloween Special, Horror, Logan and Virgil are implied but not mentioned by names, Murder, Not for the faint of heart, PLEASE HEED THE TAGS, Psychological Horror, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, buckle up kiddos this is a heavy one, moceit is Hella toxic in this like Hansel and Gretel's father and Stepmom levels of toxic, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamelesslyPoetic/pseuds/ShamelesslyPoetic
Summary: Roman has always been the perfect child with the perfect family who can want for nothing. Yet there’s a persistent void in his chest, yearning for something. And then one night he finds it. A little boy sitting on his bed, claiming to be his twin.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Clone

**Author's Note:**

> tws include body horror, murder, unsympathetic Patton, angst w/o happy ending, all that stuff mentioned in the tags. 
> 
> Huge thank you to my awesome beta Neutron who helped me polish this up and wrote the summary, and thank you to my partner for the SHOWER of compliments released upon completing this. You’re a national treasure I swear. If you’re reading I love you to hell and back <3
> 
> Happy Halloween, everyone! I hope you enjoy my spooky-themed fic contribution to this delicious day.

Roman woke with a start. His body boiled under the blanket. Heart pounding, skin clammy and throat parched, he sat up. His head swirled. 

The beams of moonlight that made it through the curtains barely provided any help as he blinked into the dark. He swallowed thickly, mouth dry as sandpaper. He needed some water. 

On wobbling legs, Roman slowly stood up. He flung the blanket off of himself and a shot of cold immediately slammed into his fevered skin. Roman shivered against the sharp contrast but kept moving. One step after the other. 

He didn’t know what was wrong. Why suddenly it felt like everything had caught fire and why he was struggling to leash a panic so strong it could swallow him whole. 

Roman blearily made his way through the house. He stumbled as his head spun another loop, closing his eyes to steady himself every other step. He didn’t want to wake up Pa or Dad so he moved extra slowly over the floorboards, wincing at each creak until he finally pushed his way into the kitchen. 

Glass from cabinet. Filter. Fill till the water is just short of overflowing. 

He recited the motions to himself, a grounding technique he’d learned from a brooding friend at school. The water soothed his parched throat. It was a small comfort, better than nothing, and now that part of the scalding fire had weaned, he could go back to sleep. 

Roman padded his way upstairs, ready to pass out. But as he stepped into his room and turned towards his bed, Roman locked eyes with a kid about his age, sitting cross legged on _his_ bed. By now he’d adjusted to the dark and rather than just make out the outline of the stranger before him, he noticed that he looked...familiar. Except he didn’t, really. He had big brackish eyes and an eerie aura about him. 

“Hello,” said Roman, trying to level his voice.

“Hello,” the stranger chirped back, almost identically. 

“What--” Roman took a deep breath. “Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”

The stranger cackled and a shiver entirely separate from the cold night air skirted up Roman’s spine. 

“Silly goose, you mean _our_ room,” he corrected boldly.

A thick lump rose up in Roman’s throat. Something bitter like fear pushing down his tongue. 

“No it’s not,” he gritted out. “I don’t know you.”

He tried to remember what he’d been told he should do in a situation like this. Failed to. His legs shook and his palms started sweating but he wouldn’t let this -- this intruder know he’d scared Roman witless in his own home. 

“Course you do!” His voice grew shriller and higher with each syllable, and finally the most deafening words by far followed in a sing-song, “I’m your twin brother!”

Roman felt like he’d stepped into a puddle of mud, sinking and so confused and wrong footed he couldn’t think straight. 

Roman didn’t understand a lot of things. He could count what he knew about the world on his fingers and toes but one thing he knew for certain is that he did _not_ have a brother. Never had. He was an only child, and always would be. 

“I...don’t have one?” Roman forced through the invisible chokehold on his throat. 

“Your name’s Roman, isn’t it?”

Roman’s eyes widened. “How do you--?”

“Already told ya, we’re brothers. Twins, actually,” the stranger trilled. “Roman and Remus.”

“Remus?” Roman asked cautiously, turning the name over in his head. He’d heard it before. It scratched against the back of his teeth as he struggled not to test it again for proof. 

“That’s my name, don’t burn it out!”

“I don’t have a brother,” said Roman firmly. “Pa and Dad would have told me if I did.” 

Those seaweed eyes turned smug, lips curled into a mocking sneer. “Oh yes, like they tell you everything.”

Indignation created an oily mix in Roman’s stomach as it churned with terror and he swallowed again, harder this time.

“They don’t have to, they’re adults, they know what they’re doing.”

“Actually, brother dearest-- ”

The word landed like a nasty sting on Roman’s skin. He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from clattering and curled his hands into fists so his fingers would stop shaking. 

“Don’t call me that!” Roman yelled in hopes of intimidating him.

The stranger -- the thing on his bed -- Remus ignored him. “They lied to you. But I can promise I won’t keep anything from you, Roro.” He smiled a shark’s grin and tilted his head. “You want proof we’re brothers, right?”

Roman wanted him to _leave_. 

Remus shuffled his way around the -- _Roman’s_ room like he knew each and every spot, every nook and crevice and cranny. As if it _was_ his room too. But there was something off about his movements; deceptively light, and yet still dragging across the floor. 

He grabbed the wooden slats on either side of Roman’s bed and lifted them up like the bed possessed no weight at all. As Remus bent Roman heard a snap, like his spine had cracked, but Remus seemed perfectly unbothered as he pulled out a box of sketchbooks and art supplies from under Roman’s bed. 

Roman averted his gaze and it landed on his desk, where other sketchbooks and supplies were stacked up into a pyramid. 

“Remember this?” Remus asked, pushing the cartoon box towards Roman’s foot. Old dusty sketchbooks, half-used paints and stiff brushes stared up at him.

Roman lifted his eyes to Remus, who held up a drawing of a dead goat. Blood seeped into the grass below as its pack continued on towards the orange horizon without it. Roman remembered. Remembered mixing various acrylic paints to get those exact muted, muddy shades. He remembered Pa didn’t like it.

Roman didn’t say anything so Remus just showed him more sketches. Skulls. Bones. Broken things. All put down by Pa for being too vulgar or macabre. But though Roman recognised them he knew he hadn’t painted any of them because they bore no resemblance to him. Roman was good. Roman was pure and pristine. Roman hadn’t drawn those. 

“I was just never good enough, was I?” Remus’s voice came in an enraged whisper, quiet and so dark that it sent another wave of shivers down Roman’s spine. 

He smiled bitterly, eyes gleaming. “They tried to make me better, but my grades wouldn’t climb up even with tutors and every drawing I made ended up too creepy, every poem I wrote scary, every song I played on the piano sad.”

Roman remained quiet as his heart roared in his ears, waiting, standing firm against the suffocating presence in his room. 

“But you...you were perfect, you did everything they asked,” he said finally, stumbling. His gaze unfocused and his head tilted to the side in that eerie way again, his voice turning flat and monotone. His body stilled completely, inhumanely so, and only his lips moved on. “I remember trying to be more like you and sometimes I could, but whatever I made would still somehow come out wrong. Bad.” He laughed, sudden and rough as his voice warped into mockery. “Bad Remus, no Remus, stop it Remus.”

Remus tore through the two sketchbooks, revealing a slideshow of what he was describing.

A glittery butterfly backdropped by greenery. A butterfly with fraying wings. A sun shining bright in the middle of a sky. An eclipsed sun. A pair of beautiful, smooth hands that belonged to an upper class lady. A pair of scarred hands.

“Eventually they figured I was a lost cause.”

The pause hung heavy between them with an air of startling finality. Roman didn’t want to hear anymore because on the edges of his consciousness images started to creep up, slithering around into the empty blots of his memory. Being woken up in the dead of night. Screaming and begging and crying and promises to be better. A final waterlogged cry. Dull green eyes staring up at nothing as the tide washed over. 

“So then they killed me,” said Remus, his blue lips quivering over his forced grin that revealed deathly translucent teeth.

Roman noticed for the first time Remus spoke with a sort of difficulty, shallow and gurgling and breathless. 

Remus’s eyes snapped to Roman’s, looking into his very soul as he spoke his clearest words yet. “How could you let them, Roman?”

The accusation hit Roman like a slap to the face and he reeled back as his stomach roiled with the force of so many feelings -- guilt and sorrow and anger and horror -- raking shudders through him until his knees buckled from underneath him and he fell. 

“What are you talking about? You’re not _real_!” Roman screamed, clutching his hair and pulling as if he could wake himself up from this dreadful nightmare. His voice broke out in a furious sob, repeating like a prayer, “Get out, get out! Get out of my room now!”

Remus just watched him with a blank expression. He patiently waited for Roman to stop screaming, then crouched down to look him in the eye. Pinned under the force of those murky green pair, Roman, spent and scared, whispered, “I, I don’t understand...wh-why are you here? What do you _want_ from me?”

The manic energy radiating off of Remus suddenly receded completely, leaving behind only exhaustion and so much sadness Roman could feel it ripple in the space between them. At that exact moment he remembered a word he’d learnt from an overachiever at school. _Commiseration._

“I just want us all to be together again,” Remus whimpered. He reached to hold Roman’s hand, the touch so cold that it burned, but Roman let him. “I miss you, and I miss Pa and Dad too.”

Roman gazed back into those eyes, shone with sincerity and a grief that looked so old, so deep and so wrong on a child’s face that Roman could only sob at the hardened bloated skin and bruised cheeks. His arms flung out of their own accord towards Remus’s neck and he hugged him tightly, weeping for the years his brother should have had. 

He was supposed to be the one comforting Remus, as he was the one in the most distressing situation. Nevermind that Roman’s skin crawled and his nostrils raged against the rotting stench of death wafting off of his brother, nevermind his throat clogged and his shoulders shook with each breath, nevermind that inside his head, a minefield he’d carefully kept himself away from for years, started bombing up on all sides. 

How could Pa and Dad do such a thing? How could Roman just watch, and then make himself forget? 

“I’m sorry,” Roman wailed. “Remus, Ree, god, I’m so sorry!”

He’d wanted to forget. He’d chosen against reason to trust them. As he watched them cry at Remus’s funeral he’d tried to convince himself they really had cared about his brother. He didn’t try to make sense of it, because it made no sense. So he just kept doing what they asked, kept being their good little boy, too scared to think what would happen if he stopped being. 

He let Dad take out Remus’s bed from their room. Let Pa lock all his drawings away. He lived in denial and eventually, he brought himself to forget. Never completely though. He always felt like there was something missing and almost every night he woke up with nightmares that Pa soothed him after. Some nights he’d turn over the house in a blind tantrum, searching searching _searching_ under mattresses and between seats and inside closets, for someone long since gone. All the while he felt eyes watching him out of nowhere. Felt a gaping hole in his heart that seemed to widen and consume him with each heaving breath now. 

Remus held him through it, patting his back in a way that wasn’t much soothing, just an insistent tap-tap that grounded him. 

“What can-- ” A hiccup cut Roman off and he sniffed, scrubbing his face with his sleeve and sitting back on his heels. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes,” Remus said instantly, squeezing Roman’s hands. 

Roman waited eagerly, ready to do anything to make things right. It was the least he could do. 

“Kill them.”

Roman flinched back, snatching his hands away as if he’d been burned. “What?” He stared at Remus with wide eyes and an agape mouth. “No! No I can’t do that!”

Remus’s eyes remained soft. Pleading. “Please, Roman. I’ve missed you all so much.” He shook his head, shoulders hunched in. So small, so fragile. A child robbed of his life and family. Roman’s heart ached for him as much as it throbbed in fear. 

“I’m, I’m not mad anymore,” he said, scooting closer towards Roman, inching his blue, cold, swollen hand towards him again. “I had plenty of time to be and it didn’t help.”

“Can’t you come to us?” Roman asked desperately. “I’ll, I could talk to Pa and Dad; you could visit us.”

Remus’s answering disappointment robbed the room of its air. Silence reigned. Roman closed his eyes. He was so tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep. 

“But it’ll hurt,” Roman choked. “I’m scared it’ll hurt, didn’t dying hurt you?”

“It did, but only for a little.”

Roman didn’t know if ghosts could lie but he was sure Remus had held back something. 

Just how painful maybe. Just how long Roman and his parents would have to twist around in agony before they went under. How scary it all was. No, he expected Roman to discuss his own death calmly and rationally. It would be almost funny if Roman didn’t want them to be together just as much. 

Still, riddled with terror as he was, Roman pulled back his hands away from Remus’s reach, curling them onto his lap. His head hung heavy, eyes safely tucked away from Remus’s melancholy green. 

Remus sat back on his heels. Roman waited. 

“Come on, Ro, just think about it!” Remus stood up, suddenly decisive as he hopped around the room. “We’ll be together again, always and forever. We can play hide and seek for as long as we want to, we can climb trees without ever being scared of falling! It’ll be so much fun, bro! ” He stood in front of Roman again. Smiling. Hopeful. “Just like before, remember?” 

Remus looked on the edge of something...something alive. There was a faint dusting of color on his cheeks, a spring to his step, even if his eyes were still dim. Roman wanted to freeze him in time, the way he would have been in those stolen years. Then he would have grown, he would have grown and seen the world and found a job and fallen in love and did all those things adults were constantly telling Roman about. 

Roman didn’t think it was fair he’d get to have it all when Remus wouldn’t. When Remus never could. 

“Ro?” Remus asked nervously. 

Roman swallowed, managing a smile around his tears. “Okay, Ree. Okay.”

Finally Remus’s eyes lit up, melting from the seaweed color to a brilliant forest green. He didn’t look so dead anymore. 

Guided by Remus’s light steps and gleeful giggles, Roman couldn’t help but smile too. He felt like he had when they’d creep around in the middle of the night to play in the backyard or get candy from the store. It was wrong, but fun. 

The illusion of innocence shattered as soon as the two of them stepped into the kitchen and Roman’s eyes fell on the knife rack. 

The largest of blades dangled in the night air from the open window and Roman reached out slowly, scared to create a ruckus. He closed his hand over the handle and his breath hitched. 

He couldn’t do it. He had to. He would.

Roman yanked and shut his eyes, waiting for a clang. Waiting for Pa to wake up and catch him. But nothing happened. 

Roman opened his eyes and looked beside him. Remus had caught the rack and Roman smiled in relief even though he also felt like he wanted to throw up. 

The knife was heavy in his hands. He’d never liked knives. Always too scared he’d hurt someone if he got his hands on one and Pa had taught him violence was never the answer. He should go back to sleep. This...this was wrong. Murder was wrong. But then...Pa had done it hadn’t he? 

Roman looked at Remus and the sight of his brother beside him filled him with courage. If Roman went through with this they’d be a family again. What was more right than that? 

They managed to reach the end of the hall, where Pa and Dad slept. Roman had finally steadied his hand on the knife’s handle and he hid it in his pants as the door cracked open. Roman reached out his hand and Remus squeezed as they stepped in. 

Pa sat up in bed, opening his arms to Roman. Roman glanced back at Remus, who gave him a toothy grin as his eyes fixed on Pa. But Pa’s eyes were on Roman’s. 

As they approached Pa who reached for the bedside table, Remus walked step by step with Roman, keeping their hands linked. 

“Ro, I heard screaming, I was just about to go get you.” A pause as Pa fixed his glasses over his eyes. “Are you okay, kiddo?”

Roman shook his head. “I miss Ree.”

“Who’s Ree, love?” Pa asked brightly as he pulled Roman onto his lap with a little bounce. “A friend at school?”

“No,” Roman said. “Our Ree. Remus.”

“You’re confused, baby, there’s no Remus here.”

 _Yes there is, he’s right here_. Roman wanted to say. He glanced over Pa’s shoulder where Remus was pressed between his back and Dad’s. His hands clutched Pa’s arms, cheek pressed to his shoulder as he looked back at Roman. 

Pa shivered, pulling the covers tighter around him. Roman shifted and the tip of the knife dug into the side of his ankle. He winced as the handle wiggled at his thigh, making the knife’s sharp tip dig in deeper. 

“Don’t you ever miss him?” Roman asked to distract himself from the sting. He shut his eyes tightly. He could feel Remus’s gaze on his face and he hid in Pa’s chest. 

“Oh, Ro,” Pa sighed.

A thick liquid dripped down to Roman’s foot. He wondered if dying would hurt this much.

“Yes, Ro, of course I miss him.” 

Roman looked up in surprise. _Then why did you do it?_

Behind them, Remus smiled. His eyes were misty and unfocused but his smile shone bright and proud. 

“But he’s gone now, I couldn’t save him, so it doesn’t matter,” Pa continued, voice soft and sugar-sweet. He smiled at Roman, smoothing back his hair from his forehead. “At least I still have you, right, my songbird?”

“I miss you too, Pa,” Remus said mournfully.

“He misses you too,” Roman transcribed, because he had to know, he just had to. Roman looked up at his Pa’s set face, begging. “Would you like to see him again? Do you wanna see Remus again?”

“You have a big imagination, kiddo!” Pa said. “But that’s impossible.”

Roman’s brows knitted as he desperately persisted. “But if you could -- ”

All at once Pa’s voice changed. Sugar hardened into tooth-aching candy as he squeezed Roman’s shoulder so tight he had to keep from crying out. “Roman Prince, stop this ridiculousness at once.”

Roman winced, his jaw ticking and his limbs weak. He kept on under Remus’s eyes. “But he’s--”

“Remus was a mistake,” Pa cut him off coldly. He hadn’t snapped and his voice hadn’t risen but Roman flinched back so far they were no longer touching. 

“He wasn’t even meant to be born,” he said it like a fact, with no emotion, nothing. 

Roman couldn’t bear to look at Remus. 

“When we decided to have a baby we wanted one kid and that was you, our perfect little boy that any parents would want,” Pa said. His eyes were fixed far off on a point beyond Roman’s shoulder as he landed his final blow. “He had to go.” He looked down at Roman but Roman couldn’t stand the blank voids staring back at him so he looked to Remus’s instead. Watery and pained. Drowned. 

“Believe me, Roman, it’s better this way,” Pa said. For a moment he was silent, locked in a trance of sorts, and when he sobered up he simply turned Roman away. “Now off to bed with you, I don’t want to hear any more on the subject.”

The urge to be a good boy and listen nagged at him but his foot stung and he wasn’t sure he could stand on it. 

Stunned into a nonverbal state, Roman looked to Remus for direction and though his tears hadn’t dried he looked determined. Roman latched onto that certainty as reality shook underneath him. After hearing all that, the horrible confirmation and the ultimate cruelty, Remus still stood his ground. Roman didn’t know if he could do it too. Despite anything anyone else might say Remus had always been the braver twin, but Roman could at least try. He owed that to him. 

“Yes sir,” Roman croaked finally, the full knowledge of what he was about to do weighing down his shoulders as he heaved one last breath.

With a final encouraging nod from Remus, Roman pulled out the knife and buried it in Pa’s stomach. His eyes widened as he bent over and choked, a sticky squelch sounding as the knife dug in deeper by Roman and Remus’s joined hands. One of flesh and bone, the other of gossamer and ice.

A broken sob tore out of Roman as he clamped a hand over Pa’s mouth like he’d once done to Remus. He looked up at the pain and shock radiating in Pa’s eyes, remembering how it shone in a green pair just like that a long time ago. Remus squeezed Roman’s hand tighter before helping him pull the knife free. Hot blood gushed out onto Roman’s face and he tasted copper. His heart pounded high in his ears, his hands shaking. 

Roman lunged at Dad next, still crying and quivering as he climbed over Pa’s body. He tried reaching for Roman and hands grazed his arms but then Roman heard a soft thud and Pa stilled. Remus hovered over top of them, helping Roman angle the knife as he stabbed it into the side of Dad’s neck. 

Dad’s eyes flew open into two mismatched bulges as wide as saucers and Roman closed his against the sight, but he still heard the scream. Bloodcurdling and animalistic. 

Roman scrambled back from the bed, falling on his butt. His foot was still bleeding but he could hardly feel it through the panic and pain that paralyzed his limbs. 

“It’s okay,” Remus said. Roman heard no footsteps but when he hefted his heavy eyelids open to source where his brother’s voice had come from, Remus was there holding Roman’s gore-stained face in his hands. 

“No, don’t look,” Remus commanded as Roman tried to turn his head. “It’s all going to be okay, Roman. I promise. Just don’t look, okay?”

He’d been following orders all his life so though it wasn’t at all easy Roman focused on the green of his brother’s eyes, ignoring the scene in his periphery, ignoring Pa’s blood pooling red onto the white sheets and Dad still choking with his hands over his throat. 

“You did so well, Ro,” Remus cooed, the gurgling quality which riddled his voice faint now. But maybe Roman just couldn’t hear over the sound of his own erratic breaths and ringing ears.

Roman felt hands on his own once more where he desperately gripped the knife.

“Don’t worry, it’s almost over. Just one last push and it’ll all be over.”

Roman let saltwater warm his cheeks as he rested his forehead on his brother’s shoulder. And just as he’d let people make him do things so many times before, he let Remus help him drive the knife straight into his own heart. 

As the knife clattered to the ground, a thick liquid unspooled across his chest. He prodded at the wetness with his hand and the lines of his palm came away red red _red_. Roman looked down at the growing stain that raced to ruin his favourite pajamas, stark against the bright yellow of his shirt. He was more upset by it than anything else. 

Searing pain exploded so deep in Roman’s heart that it resounded in the back of his rib-cage and he fell on his back, tears dripping into his ears. His face twisted in pain as he tried to sob, but he could only gasp and wheeze around the agonizing waves rippling through his body. Ebbing and falling with his shallow pants as his body uselessly fought for survival. Fire cinched his lungs with each inhale, a bitterly cold fist seizing on every bitten off exhale. A hole inside him swallowed all the oxygen away, leaving nothing but the fire behind. 

Remus sat beside him, smoothing over Roman’s arm with his hand, repeating, “It’s okay, Ro,” and “It’ll be over soon,” again and again. 

Through the agony only Remus broke through. There was only Remus, and for the rest of time, that was all there would ever be. 

With the last shred of strength Roman had, he lifted his eyes to his brother’s. The green in them was the brightest he’d ever seen. Suddenly Roman wasn’t so scared of death anymore. 

“That’s it, Ro, let go,” said Remus, his voice echoing far off from the end of a tunnel. “Just close your eyes and let go.”

Roman’s tight grip on Remus’s hand eased. His eyes fluttered as dark blotches cradled the sides of his vision. 

“Good boy, Roro.”

Remus’s praise washed over Roman’s pain. Pulling him under and putting out the flames as the tide rose. Roman smiled. 

And then the whole world went black. 

***

Patton gazed into the foamy white room with his husband beside him as the attending staff hovered around them. Good, caring people. But the straight jacket held Roman’s frail little arms too tight together. Poor kiddo, he’d gone through so much last night. Struggled and screamed like a wild animal with that knife shaking in his hands, eyes always unfocused. 

Patton had managed to sedate him with a quick injection and his heart broke when Roman fell off the bed, muttering nonsense off in his own world as they clawed the knife off of him. Well, he’d always had quite the imagination. Patton’s lovely little boy. He could see him now, talking to one of his imaginary friends, babbling about the pictures he’d draw once they gave him crayons. Patton made a note to get some new ones from the store. 

Shiny tracks glistened on Roman’s cheeks and Patton twisted his lip. Poor baby, his poor baby. 

It would all be okay. In a few days Roman would be all better and Patton would take him home and he’d color all he wanted as Patton made orange juice in the kitchen. 

A shallow gulp of air bubbled beside him as Janus sobbed. He didn’t understand. But that was okay. 

Patton took Janus’s hand, gently tracing the flaky skin on the back of his hand with his thumb. 

He’d understand some day. He’d understand that Roman was their little boy and that they would always be a family. Patton’s perfect family, where nothing bad could touch them, not even if that thing had come out of Patton’s own belly. 

Patton smiled. No one would ever take his perfect family away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Betcha didn’t see that coming huh? ;)
> 
> Poor Roman. Poor Remus. Is he an actual ghost haunting his brother or is it all in Roman’s “big imagination”? Who’s to say?
> 
> Patton is trans in this but I definitely do NOT believe that trans people are violent, fuck JKR for that new novel bullshit she’s on. I did it just to add to the creepiness, like Patton all martyr cause he birthed them so that means he owns them and can do whatever he wants. Hope that makes sense.
> 
> Kudos and comments are immensely appreciated, they give me life and plenty of serotonin sooo. Pls. 
> 
> I’m hoping to come out with either a platonic thvi fic or a prinxiety before the spooky season ends so keep your eyes peeled.
> 
> Don’t forget to drink your loving Roman juice!
> 
> See you soon, 
> 
> Elise xoxo


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